SOUTHERN LIGHTS: War is hell, especially when squirrels are foe

Sunday

Jul 22, 2012 at 12:01 AM

Ben Windham Southern Light I like thrift shops. As a matter of fact, I am obsessed with them. They are a lush, fabulous oasis for people-watchers. All manner of humanity turns up in them: pimps, housewives, college students, crazies, pickers, preachers, drunks. Their merchandise covers an equally broad swath. On offer are wooden doors, costume jewelry, art, used cooking utensils, creaky electronic things with a rat’s nest of tangled wires, old tricycles, battered magazines — and clothes, clothes, clothes. On a recent visit, I saw a tome on Nietzsche next to a Zane Grey novel in the book section. A paperback of Dostoyevsky’s “Crime and Punishment” was shelved near a Janet Evanovich thriller. And then I found what I was looking for. It was a slim volume by Bill Adler Jr. titled “Outwitting Squirrels.” I have grown to hate squirrels.

"It is well that war is so terrible; otherwise we should grow too fond of it.” Robert E. Lee to James Longstreet at the Battle of Fredericksburg, Dec. 13, 1862

I like thrift shops. As a matter of fact, I am obsessed with them.They are a lush, fabulous oasis for people-watchers. All manner of humanity turns up in them: pimps, housewives, college students, crazies, pickers, preachers, drunks.Their merchandise covers an equally broad swath. On offer are wooden doors, costume jewelry, art, used cooking utensils, creaky electronic things with a rat’s nest of tangled wires, old tricycles, battered magazines — and clothes, clothes, clothes.On a recent visit, I saw a tome on Nietzsche next to a Zane Grey novel in the book section. A paperback of Dostoyevsky’s “Crime and Punishment” was shelved near a Janet Evanovich thriller.And then I found what I was looking for. It was a slim volume by Bill Adler Jr. titled “Outwitting Squirrels.”I have grown to hate squirrels.Inspired by a visit to my sister’s home, last winter, my wife and I installed a bird feeder in the backyard. I never knew it before, but I have the soul of a birder. I love watching thrushes, jays, finches, doves, woodpeckers and species I can’t begin to identify soar out of the neighboring woods to visit us.The other day, two cardinals, a male and a female, lit on the feeder. They stayed for a long time, poking and pecking the sunflower seeds. Occasionally, the male would pass a seed along to the female, but only occasionally. Otherwise, they seemed content to eat and eat and eat.Sometimes the jays or the big woodpeckers fly down and drive away everyone else. The finches seem to drive each other away. But at other times, all the varieties of birds seem to co-exist peacefully on the round metal feeder.Hey, it’s better than watching TV. A pair of field glasses makes it especially easy to study the birds through the glass panes of the back door. I’ve also bought a couple of bird books to help me identify what I see, though I haven’t gotten very far in them. I’m usually too caught up in the dramas at the feeder to consult the guides.The squirrels, unfortunately, threaten to upset it all.I wrote previously about my battles with squirrels and asked readers to help me keep them out of the feeder. My plea brought precious few replies. The consensus seemed to be that there is no solution. No feeder is truly squirrel-proof and no strategy is really satisfactory.I used to hunt squirrels in the hardwoods of Dallas County and I still remember the day that one of the “dead” ones in my game bag bit me. In a couple of the houses I’ve lived in, they wreaked havoc in the attics. A relative used to call them “tree rats,” and I think he was right.Still, I had nothing particular against squirrels — until we erected the bird feeder. Then they became a big problem. I discovered quickly that we were spending more money on feeding the squirrels than the birds.Nothing I did would stop the voracious onslaught of hungry rodents. Even hanging our feeder from a crook in the middle of an open yard where our dogs and cat occasionally roam didn’t deter the squirrels.On a couple of occasions, the squirrels even knocked down the feeder. I don’t know how they did it. When it’s fully loaded, it’s hard for me to pick it up. But there it was, on the ground, open with the seeds scattered and ready for them to eat.On my sister’s advice, we tried rubbing the crook with Crisco. It worked for a while but the dogs licked it off the bottom. Then the rest oozed away or got rancid in the hot summer sun. The feeder stank to high heaven. But the squirrels seemed to love it.I went on the Internet and read that you need to hang the feeder at least 6 feet from the ground. Our crook was about 2 feet too short.So I went to the hardware store and bought a longer crook. We tried it, but no dice. The squirrels just shimmied, stretched and jumped further to get to the chow.Hollering and slamming the back door didn’t seem to faze them. I started piling up rocks on the patio to chunk at the squirrels, but they caught on quickly and scurried away as soon as they saw me bend down.I considered electrifying the crook — but that might hurt the birds. The dogs wouldn’t like it, either.Our son suggested mixing pieces of hot peppers with the birdseed. The birds don’t notice, he said, but the squirrels might.He grows peppers and he offered us some of his hottest varieties — so hot that you have to wear gloves just to handle them — to use as squirrel deterrent.We chopped and mixed the peppers with the next bag of bird feed we got — a mixture from Publix — but it didn’t stop the squirrels. Seemingly grateful for the added spice in their life, they even invited their buddies to lunch. At times, three or more of the furry pests were clinging to the feeder, gorging themselves on the peppery feed.At that point, I snapped. I loaded up my .22 rifle. It was a miserably hot weekend afternoon, and no neighbors or dogs or children were around outside. There is a steep earthen bank in the woods behind the backyard, so it seemed safe enough. A fat squirrel with a particularly bushy tail was gobbling away on the bird feeder.Quietly, I slipped out the door, chambered a round in the rifle, and fired.I’d been reading Hilary Mantel’s wonderful novels about Thomas Cromwell and Henry VIII and I had visions of mounting the heads of the enemy squirrels on pikes in the backyard. That would show them, by God!But my shot missed. The squirrel leaped from the feeder and waddled back to the woods. And I came back to my senses.It was illegal to fire a gun in the city limits, I recalled. No jury in world would ever convict me for shooting at squirrels, but I did not want to break the social compact.Also, on reflection, I decided that as a wildlife lover, I didn’t really want to kill the squirrels. I did, really, but I told myself that I didn’t. So I put the gun away.Still, the whole situation gnawed at me. I began to become physically ill when I saw squirrels leaping merrily up to the feeder and stuffing themselves on what should have been food for our feathered friends.And then I found Adler’s book.It’s clumsily written in parts and it’s miserably edited. I hate seeing “whose” used where “who’s” is called for and it disturbs me beyond end when “it’s” is used as a possessive instead of a contraction. Brings out the surly old editor in me.Still, the book is a wealth of ideas. Some of them are tongue-in-cheek ludicrous, like the recommendation to place a piranha-filled moat around your feeder. Plus, Adler is a realist with some disheartening observations. There is no way to truly squirrel-proof your feeder, he writes. You can only retard the little beasts.But you can retard them.If you’re like me and don’t want to kill them, you can trap the squirrels and move them a couple of miles away. That takes some cash outlay for the no-harm traps and the gasoline involved, however.Or, he writes, you can invest in robotics to scare the squirrels away. But I didn’t think our dogs would let the robots hang around for long.A large part of the book is given to the selection of and care for bird feeders. Adler says you never let your seed get wet and stay in the feeder. If you do, you run the risk of mold and possible toxicity.That passage got me outside for a quick inspection. Our seed had gotten wet and maybe a bit moldy. Some of it was sprouting little green things.I dumped it over the fence, so the dogs wouldn’t get in the potentially poisonous seed. But then it struck me — what if the squirrels ate it? I grinned, with visions of the poisoned rodents lying all over the ground. But of course, they ignored it, opting instead for the fresh seed that I put inside the feeder. I guess I was glad, because I don’t really want to kill the squirrels — just deter them. But deep down, I really want to kill them.Then I read what I thought was Adler’s best suggestion. Instead of using Crisco on the pole, use spray Teflon.Wow, I wish I’d thought of that before! I also wish I’d known there was such a thing.It’s as good as glass for keeping squirrels off, Adler writes. The only thing is, it washes away every time it rains. But that didn’t matter to me — at the time.People at the local hardware stores also didn’t seem to know about spray Teflon, I discovered. I did some research on the Internet and it said you can get it at bicycle shops.I don’t know what bicyclists use it for and I didn’t ask. The bike shop I went to didn’t have it in a spray can, but they offered Teflon lubricant in a drip bottle.I bought it, even though it seemed expensive — around $8 for a 2-ounce bottle. Then I brought it home and covered the feeder pole with it.We sat back and watched. Soon enough, the birds were coming again. Then it rained.I’m having to re-coat the pole today. But I read that rain is in the forecast for the rest of the week.The Teflon may be slick, but already it’s a pain in the rear. I don’t like the time and expense involved in keeping the pole Teflon-ed. Bird-watching is supposed to be fun. But at our house, it has gotten beyond fun.This is war.

Ben Windham is retired editorial editor of The Tuscaloosa News. His email address is Swind15443@aol.com.

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